by Ken W. Smith
“Sure,” Jay said as he walked over to her bike and pulled out her phone. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call the police and report the accident?”
“No, I’ll tell my brother. He’s a Falmouth cop.”
“I better get back to my run,” he said. The woman was on the phone and didn’t seem to notice.
“Kyle, it’s Mom. I was in a small accident on the bike path. Can you come to pick me up? Yes, you have my okay to drive the car by yourself. You have your license. I’m at the crosswalk on Surf Drive. Okay, don’t take long. I have to get to work.”
Jay put on his shirt, hat, and running shoes then went back up to the woman. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Jay said. “I can stay with you until your ride’s here.”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks for the help.”
Jay ran back to the apartment in Woods Hole, feeling like a new man. He took a quick shower to wash the saltwater off, then he called McCoy and told him he would accept the offer to join Maravista Security.
Chapter 13
Dartmouth, MA - South Coast of Massachusetts
Butterflies whipped knots up in Jay’s stomach. Not because he was on his first assignment for Maravista. But because he didn’t know if the beat-up Suburban Marty bought had proper armor. That’s a detail most security people don’t overlook. But Maravista was a start-up, and that meant working with a limited budget.
Marty assured him this former Secret Service vehicle had Class II protection. But if the rattles and noises were any sign, Jay wasn’t feeling too confident.
* * *
The Pope’s assassination sent the world into a chaotic frenzy. Catholic leaders blamed Muslim terrorists, who in turn blamed Israeli intelligence. Demonstrations broke out around the world, and threats against Catholic leaders increased. The National Security Administration (NSA) reported increased terrorist threats and rumors of mass suicide bombings filled the airwaves.
All of the uncertainty was a boom for the fledgling Maravista Security firm. The Fall River Archdiocese hired Maravista to protect their leader, Bishop Rafael Ramirez.
Jay’s job was to drive Bishop Ramirez to a meeting with wealthy donors. Bill Shannon, an off-duty Falmouth police officer, rode next to him. A former Army MP, Bill served in Iraq and Afghanistan. He had a spotless record and was considered a rising star in line to be a detective.
The meeting started at four o’clock, followed by a cocktail reception, then dinner. The Bishop’s sister hosted the event. She managed a charitable foundation that supported many non-profits, including Catholic Charities. The annual meeting reviewed the foundation’s finances and new grant applications.
The house was a charming five-bedroom summer cottage. A wrap-around porch on the oceanside overlooked Buzzards Bay. In front of the house, a narrow path led two hundred yards downhill. It wound through marshy scrub to a small, sandy beach. Private, but not too secluded, the location seemed secure to Jay.
After dinner, the group moved to the porch. The Bishop’s nieces and nephews lit a bonfire on the beach. They invited the guests to join them.
Jay didn’t like the venue change, but he trained for any scenario. He stayed close to the Bishop. Shannon patrolled the beach on the opposite side of the bonfire.
While some guests sat in the sand, the Bishop stood talking with his sister.
Jay enjoyed the heat from the fire, but the bright light disrupted his night vision. He found it difficult to see past the flames. He also wasn’t happy that the Suburban was parked in the house’s driveway, over two hundred yards away.
At nine forty-five, Jay’s phone rang. It was Marty.
“Hello,” he said.
“How is everything going with the Bishop?”
“Fine so far. No problems.”
“How’s Bill doing?”
“He’s good. He’s on the beach near the water. He checks in every five minutes.”
“When do you leave?”
“In fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. Give me a call after you return the Bishop to the rectory.”
“Will do,” Jay replied and hung up.
Ten minutes later, the guests began to head back to the house. Jay prepared to escort the Bishop back to the Suburban when he heard what sounded like a faint pop.
He moved closer to the Bishop and pulled out his firearm. He spoke into his radio headset.
“Bill?” Jay said. “Is everything okay?”
No answer.
“Shannon, respond, please.” Still no answer.
Then there were screams.
Children ran past him in a full panic. Out of the bonfire, two shadows emerged from the smoke walking toward him. One held a handgun with a silencer. The other an assault rifle. The attackers pointed their weapons at the Bishop.
Jay tackled the Bishop to the ground as a deafening blast of gunfire erupted. Tracers tracked inches over his head.
When the gunfire stopped, Jay jumped up into a crouched position. He turned and pulled the Bishop into the thick scrub brush next to the beach. It wasn’t very high but offered some protection. He pointed his gun at the man with the silenced handgun and fired.
Two holes emerged between his eyebrows. Then the man dropped to the ground. The other attacker with the assault rifle stopped to look. Jay took this opportunity to escape. He grabbed the Bishop and flung him over his right shoulder, running up the sandy path as fast as he could. He put the Bishop down in the front yard.
“Sorry about that,” Jay said. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, but shouldn’t we warn somebody.”
“Someone call 911!” Jay said. “There are men with guns.”
The people on the porch laughed. Then went back to their conversations.
Jay glanced back to see the man with the assault rifle running up the path. Then saw the man raise his rifle.
“They’ll figure it out,” Jay said. “Now run to the Suburban!”
Jay ducked down as the bullets ripped into the siding of the house. He fired at the shadow to give the Bishop a head start. The attacker dropped to the ground.
Jay sprinted around to the rear of the house and found the Suburban. Someone had parked their high-end BMW in the driveway blocking him in.
Jay looked inside and saw the Bishop lying on the floor of the back seat. Jay opened the driver’s door as he heard another round of gunfire. Sparks flew off the side of the SUV. Jay felt a burning sensation in his left calf. He looked down to see blood on the floor. Before he had a chance to close it, the door jerked open.
A hand reached in and grabbed the front of his shirt. It tried to pull him out of the driver’s seat.
Jay pressed the gun against the bicep and pulled the trigger. The man screamed but didn’t let go. Damn, this guy was tough, Jay thought.
Jay leaned forward and threw all his body weight against the door, knocking the man back. He grabbed the door handle and slammed the door on the man’s arm. Jay heard a loud crunch of bones as the attacker screamed in pain. Jay opened the door enough for his arm to fall out, then slammed the door, punched the ignition button, and put the vehicle into drive.
Before he slammed the accelerator to the floor, Jay looked out the window, catching a glimpse of movement. He saw the man lying on the ground, wearing a black ski mask and a tight-fitting black sweatshirt. Then he saw the bulletproof vest. The man peered at Jay with icy gray eyes. It looked like the same man who raped Olivia.
The man pulled the trigger. The roar was deafening. A fusillade of bullets slammed into the Suburban. The windows held. Jay released the brake and slammed his foot on the accelerator.
The large SUV leaped forward, plowing into the front of the BMW. Jay kept his foot on the gas, pushing the car back down the driveway. More bullets slammed into the rear of the Suburban. When he reached the street, Jay hit the brakes. He watched the BMW continue rolling until it slammed into a tree on the far side of the road. Jay spun the wheel to the right and punched the gas.
Jay’s leg
was in excruciating pain, but he couldn’t stop. He needed to put space between him and the attacker.
“Bishop?” Jay said. “Are you alright?”
He didn’t answer. Then Jay heard movement.
“Yes, I am alright,” the Bishop said. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. I need to get you someplace safe.”
“I smell blood,” the Bishop replied. “You must not lie to me.”
“You’re right. I can’t lie to you. He shot me in the leg. It’s a flesh wound.”
“We need to take care of your wound. Pull over so I can take a look at it. Then I’ll drive. I know these roads well. I grew up in that house.”
Jay looked into the rearview mirror to see the Bishop’s face full of concern. He looked at the road behind him, but it was dark—no headlights following them. Jay saw a sign for an athletic field on his left. He cut the wheel, squealing the tires as he slid through the turn. He pulled into the dirt parking lot, driving past a youth baseball diamond, then hit the brakes and spun the wheel, completing a perfect one-hundred-eighty-degree turn. The Suburban pointed straight out towards the street. Jay looked back at the Bishop, but the back seat was empty. Then the driver’s door opened.
“Let me see your leg,” the Bishop said. Jay watched him unbuckle his pants belt.
“Bishop, what are you doing?” Jay said.
“You need a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. I know what I am doing. I was an Army medic in Vietnam before I entered the priesthood.”
Jay turned towards the Bishop and stuck his left foot out. The Bishop cinched the belt around his thigh and pulled it tight. The pain was excruciating.
The Bishop knelt to inspect Jay’s leg. “The bullet singed the muscle,” he said. “There are no holes, but I must stop the bleeding.”
“Thank you. We must hurry, though.”
“Do you have a first aid kit in the car?”
“Yes, in the back.”
The Bishop went to the back of the Suburban and opened the tailgate. A minute later, he returned with the first aid kit. He pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and poured the liquid on the wound. Jay cringed from the sting of the antiseptic but didn’t say a word. The Bishop then placed a thick gauze pad on the wound and wrapped it in a bandage.
“Unfortunately, all the kit has is Advil for the pain. I suggest you take eight of them.”
“Sounds good,” Jay said. “Now I have to call Marty.”
Chapter 14
Three days later, Jay and McCoy stood in line with hundreds of police officers to pay their respects at the local funeral home. Bill Shannon was very popular and well-liked. The police fraternity was here to honor him and support the wife and three young children he left behind.
As they walked in, McCoy whispered to Jay, “Marty said he was a great cop. It’s a real shame.”
“I should have been on the beach,” Jay said. “I didn’t have a family.”
McCoy put his arm around his friend’s shoulder, “You couldn’t know Jay.”
Jay winced as pain shot down his right arm, but he didn’t say a word.
“I need to get back to the office. I’m meeting with some agents from the FBI and Secret Service. I’ll be back tomorrow for the funeral. I understand Marty is hosting a mercy meal at the Portuguese Veterans Club. Will you be there?”
“Yes. I have to bring a new television for the bar.”
As he walked in, Jay thought about the past funerals he attended. General Andrew’s at Arlington National Cemetery. Michael Goddard’s in London. When would it end?
Inside the funeral home, Jay greeted Bill’s wife. Her six-year-old son played a video game while her eight-year-old daughter held her hand tightly. The baby, eight weeks old, was at home with a relative.
Jay knelt next to the open casket. He said a prayer and looked at Bill’s pale skin. He could see the stitches covering the bullet hole in his temple. Otherwise, Bill looked normal. Jay vowed to avenge his death.
* * *
The next morning, St. Patrick’s church was filled. Jay and Jessie were lucky to find a pew in the last row. Somebody tapped him on the shoulder. Jay turned to see McCoy standing behind him. Next to him were several familiar faces. Ones Jay hadn’t seen for over a year. Gia Khalil stood next to McCoy. She placed her hand on Jay’s shoulder, then leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. Standing next to Gia were CJ, Madman, and Gunny Mack. Natalie Choi stared ahead without looking at Jay. He could feel her pain and anger without her saying a word. Behind them stood Michelle Goddard.
McCoy brought the entire Infinity Squad to Falmouth.
“Who are those people?” Jessie asked Jay.
“Good friends. No, terrific friends.”
After the funeral, Jay drove to the Portuguese Veterans Club. They had tables set up with food and several kegs of beer.
“Jessie, go ahead and get some food,” Jay said as he double-parked outside the bar entrance. “I have some business to take care of in the hall.”
McCoy joined Jay as he opened the back of the Jeep.
“Thanks for helping out,” Jay said. “I can’t carry the TV with one good leg.”
Without saying a word, McCoy removed the large, flat box and carried it into the bar.
“You are great,” Sal said to Jay as they walked through the door. He walked around the bar to help McCoy with the TV. “I heard about what you did to save the Bishop. Too bad about Billy though, he was a great guy.”
“Thanks, Sal. Nice work with the bottle of Jack. The doctor removed the stitches yesterday.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t leave me a choice. You were out of control.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. It was a tough day.”
“Hey, don’t worry, kid. We all have those days. I nearly burned my house down when I got laid off from the shoe factory in Fall River. My wife wanted to take the kids and go back to the Azores.”
“Let me help you put this up,” McCoy said.
“Don’t worry about it now,” Sal said. “I’ll get a couple of the guys to help me. Join your family and buddies. No matter what happens, Jay, you’re always welcome here.”
“Thanks, Sal. You’re the best.”
Jay went back outside, where he saw Michelle talking on her cell phone. He thought she looked fantastic and couldn’t believe she was here with the guys in Falmouth.
“Hey McCoy, I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”
Jay straightened his tie as he waited for her to finish her call. He admired how striking she looked in her black pantsuit. What a difference since the last time he saw her in Pakistan.
“Hey, Michelle,” Jay said. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Jay!” She walked right over to him and hugged him. “I can’t believe you’re here. We went nuts looking for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“McCoy didn’t tell you? Natalie flew back to Norfolk without you. She thought you would come on a later flight, but you never arrived. “Where did you go?”
“It’s a long story,” Jay said. “I was recruited for a private security job. “What have you been doing?”
“Trying to run Goddard Aviation. But I’m spending more time fighting with Kathleen Amejian.”
“Fighting over what?”
“My father’s business empire. What else? Kathleen claims she is Matthew’s heir apparent and deserves his share of the family business. He made her President of GNN. But she wants everything, including the financial and transportation businesses. And she wants me out as President of Goddard Aviation. I’ve spent more time in court than flying.”
“That’s ridiculous. Kathleen can’t kick you out, can she?”
“No, but she can make my job bloody difficult. She’s threatening to ruin our reputation. Chase away our clients. That woman will do anything for power. She has no shame.”
“Michelle, I want to hear more, but I also want to see the rest of the Infinity Squad. Can we get togeth
er later?”
“Yes, of course. Why don’t you stop by the house I am renting. It is a charming cottage in Falmouth Heights. I’ll text you the address. Invite your friends. I’m going there now to get some work done. Running an international business isn’t all fun and games. Cheers.”
Jay expected her to give him a quick peck on the cheek. But Michelle surprised him when she kissed him on the lips. Then turned and walked towards her limousine.
Michelle intrigued Jay. She was the daughter of Matthew Goddard, once one of the richest men in the world. He raised her with a silver spoon. Unlike many children of upper-class gentry in England, she didn’t live on her trust fund. Instead, Michelle joined the Royal Air Force, becoming the first British woman to fly combat missions in Afghanistan.
After she left the military, she worked for her father’s transportation business. She built it into the largest private aviation operation in Europe. She bought the best jets and hired quality pilots and crews. She even donated helicopters and planes to volunteer mountain rescue teams.
Jay met Michelle when she flew rescue missions for the Infinity Squad. She was heartbroken when her brother died in Pakistan. The last time Jay saw her was at Michael’s funeral.
Jay found Marty behind a folding table handing out sandwiches and plastic cups of beer to the police officers milling about. McCoy was hanging with the rest of the Infinity Squad members. Jay grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water then approached his friends.
“Where’s the beer, Chief?” CJ said.
“It’s too early for me. Plus, I’m trying to cut back. Drinking is hazardous to my health. Has anybody seen Natalie?”
“She left right after the funeral,” Madman said. “Something about getting back before her next shift.”
“Did she say anything? You know, about Bahrain.”
“No,” CJ said. “It was the first time any of us saw her since the night of the trial. Since you disappeared.”
“Damn,” Jay said. “I wanted to talk to her. Try to explain and tell her I am sorry.”
“Looks a bit late for that now,” McCoy said.
* * *